Fandom: Detective Conan
Theme: #24—love and hate
Pairing: Hattori Heiji/Toyama Kazuha
Disclaimer: I do not own Detective Conan or any related characters. They belong to Gosho Aoyama. I simply throw fruit at them, take pictures, and call it modern art. Critics love me.
Summary: On the highway of love, she is driving me INSANE.
Heiji was not the boss in his home. That honor belonged to his darling wife, who had apparently been taking lessons from his mother regarding her newly-acquired ability to make him shake in his shoes. So usually, he resigned himself to being the happy king of a different domain: his car.
“We’d better get going or we’ll be late,” Kazuha said, shutting the passenger door and reaching up to buckle her seat belt carefully around the cake in her lap. “Okay—Tomoe, Yukari, no fighting!” The two girls in the back seat bobbed their heads up and down in understanding.
As he shifted the vehicle into reverse, Heiji tried to ignore the feeling rolling around in the pit of his stomach—he was pretty sure he knew what was coming. It happened every time they drove anywhere, and he had no reason to believe it would be different this time. Still, he started to pull out…
“Be careful pulling out.”
…it was already starting. Still, he kept his mouth shut and eased on the gas.
“Slow down! We’re not in a hurry!”
His grip tightened on the steering wheel.
“Put your blinker on—people aren’t mind-readers.”
They weren’t even out of the driveway, and Heiji was already at the point of explosion. After shifting into drive and starting forward, he turned to glare at her. “Ahou—“
“Keep your eyes on the road.”
“Keep your thoughts in your head,” he growled as he lifted one hand from the steering wheel to shake a finger at her.
Kazuha’s eyes widened. “Keep your hands on the wheel!”
Heiji snapped, “Shut your mouth, or I swear you’re dead!”
She sat back in a huff. “I should have taken a goddamn cab.”
“I think a pill would do a lot more good,” he retorted.
Neither noticed their two daughters inching closer to each other in the backseat. “Mom? Dad?”
Unfortunately, Mom and Dad were a bit preoccupied. “Watch where you’re going!”
“La la la, can’t hear you!”
A few seconds later, Kazuha rolled down the window and screamed out it, “Help me!”
A hand grabbed the back of her shirt and pulled her back. “Get back in the car, crazy lady.”
Heiji huffed and hunched over the steering wheel. Goddamit…I really wish I had one of those James Bond cars with the awesome ejector seats. Seriously, why don’t they make those? The car companies could make a freakin’ fortune!
“What are you doing?” she yelped for no reason, as far as he could ascertain.
“You know what?” he said in the most level voice he could manage at that moment. “If you know so much, then here! Why don’t you take the wheel?”
Glaring triumphantly at her reaction, he refocused on the road.
Kazuha folded her arms and stared out the front windshield. What is it with men? Why do they feel the need to make driving into a right of manhood? Honestly—we’re trying to get from point A to point B, not demonstrate our testosterone.
It was rather stupid—at home they argued, just as they had always done. They bickered, pecked, and called each other ahou now and again. But when they got in the car…somehow, the unconventional love turned to a more conventional hate, and the marriage went straight to hell. Sometimes, it seemed a wonder that neither of them had gotten a lawyer on the phone yet.
Heiji chose that moment to pass a car in front of him, and she squeaked, “I swear, you’re trying to kill me!” She reached up and grabbed the handle over the driver’s door—she’d heard it called an ‘oh shit’ handle, but she preferred to call it an ‘oh god’ handle, because whenever she was holding onto it, she was busily talking to God.
Now the kids were piping up in the backseat, while Kazuha was again voicing her concern over his speed. And finally, Heiji said the one phrase that every parent swears they will never utter, but inevitably does: “DON’T MAKE ME STOP THIS CAR!!”
The car went silent for a moment.
Then a tiny voice piped up from the backseat. “We’re growing up dysfunctional, you know.”
Kazuha’s forehead dropped into her palm. Yukari was only twelve years old, but…sheesh. Where did she get ideas like that, anyway? Kazuha privately blamed it on Heiji’s DNA.
Finally, the Hattori residence came into view; they pulled into the driveway and stopped. Heiji slammed the gear shift into the park position, killed the engine, looked down at the dashboard…and his expression brightened. “Hey! We made good time!”
Kazuha grinned. “Well, that wasn’t so bad. I’ve got the cake. Yukari, Tomoe, you’re on best behavior—make sure to give Grandma and Grandpa a big hug.” She climbed out and used her hip to knock the car door closed. The two girls in question didn’t hear their mother’s instructions, though. They were too busy sitting the backseat, clinging to each other for dear life.
PS. The vast majority of this fic is inspired more or less verbatim by a song from the wonderful musical I Love You, You’re Perfect, Now Change. I heard the song, and I seriously thought of Heiji and Kazuha trying to go on a drive. The kids (who were first mentioned in the eleventh one I posted, entitled “A Thousand Words”) just kinda got dropped into it for fun.
Only six left—yay! Thanks for reading, everyone. Much love!